The problem with poetry is
That it never leaves you alone.
Once you open yourself up to it
Suddenly it’s everywhere you look,
Everyone you know, everything you think.
You used to be fine experiencing something,
Shrugging your shoulders, letting it roll off your back.
But when poetry gets a hold of you,
Everything is a literary crisis!
It must be captured in verse,
Controlled in meter and rhyme,
Beat into submission by metaphor.
And life will sit all around you
Throwing ninja stars at your psyche
Mocking your weakness
And refusing to stop until you write.
The problem with poetry is that
It will either kill you or save you
And you’ll never know which.